


the sky fell down

by joonswig



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Coming of Age, Escapism, Falling In Love, Implied Insomnia, Love at First Sight, M/M, Trains, implied early onset midlife crisis, jisung sneaks out with minho bcoz hes stressed and lives the edgy fake deep emo fantasy, minsng are irritating (and in love), they're each other's home, unrealistic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 08:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18442811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joonswig/pseuds/joonswig
Summary: jisung has always been enthralled by things he couldn’t quite understand, so his inclination towards minho came as no surprise.





	the sky fell down

**Author's Note:**

> side notes: polish final exams take place in may, aged down minho by one year. 
> 
> there's a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/hanghangoverbang/playlist/40FGp1SUmKlNbIRUya7OUb?si=zF3vIY_lSNGOFQJ43bFSLQ)

jisung has always been enthralled by things he couldn’t quite understand, so his inclination towards minho came as no surprise. 

 

they meet through felix, who introduces his older friend in excitement when they hang out during easter break. jisung doesn’t know much about him. minho is turning twenty in november, in his first year of university, getting a degree in history. apparently, he likes felix enough to spend his free time hanging around a bunch of high school seniors. if it’s in any way an inconvenience, minho doesn’t let it show. 

 

minho is strange, silent but attentive, a little restrained. he laughs to himself, makes offhand, effortlessly humorous comments that jisung catches. it piques his curiosity, makes him chuckle under his breath. he pays the boy more notice than necessary, soaking in every word. minho seems to have caught on it, resting his eyes on jisung for longer than he needs. 

 

they live a street away from each other, so minho offers to drive him back. he asks about jisung’s favourite movie, “eh, dunno. i like ‘good will hunting’.”

 

“matt damon is hot.”

 

“yeah.”

 

“i like ‘funny games’.”

 

“the thriller?”

 

“yeah,” he likes the way minho drives, nonchalant as the rest of his demeanour. he has one hand on the steering wheel, leaning comfortably in his seat. he’s careful, stops at yellow lights, doesn’t speed. 

 

“how’s university?” jisung asks.

 

“’s okay, i guess. it’s more interesting than high school. what are you applying for?”

 

“economics.” minho whistles.

 

“damn, pegged you as a pre-med. i’m bad at reading people. equally impressive, i suppose.”

 

when they arrive, jisung leaves rather reluctantly. minho wishes him luck on his finals. he shakes his head, “god, i can’t believe they’re in two weeks. the way i’ll flunk this shit.”

 

“you won’t,” minho smiles and jisung believes him. 

 

he doesn’t expect them to see each other again for at least a month, for several reasons. one, jisung spends the weekends locked in at home, doing maths. two, so do felix, hyunjin and seungmin, so there’s not much of an excuse to hang out. three, he doesn’t have minho’s number. it doesn’t stop the thought of minho occupying his mind ever so often. 

 

it’s curiosity, really. it’s minho’s unique sheen that makes him so terribly interested. the way he spoke was simple, monotone, but carried depth. jisung always had a thing for unsolved cases, people he couldn’t crack with his usual ease. 

 

it’s become a habit of his to go out at night, sneaking out his flat late when his parents think he’s asleep. jisung knows its childish, but he can’t help the need to go outside after being locked up in his room. he isn’t very keen on sleeping either these days, not during the night at least. he dozes off when he rolls back home at three or four in the morning, only to wake up at seven. it’s worked for him somehow.

 

he thinks of taking pills, or something of the sort, the day before his polish finals that mark the beginning of exam season, to get enough rest. however, jisung is easily swayed by the premise of spending another night roaming the city. it’s an upper force that drags him out of the faux comfort of his bed. 

 

it’s may already, but the nights are a little chilly. he grabs a jacket and heads out, no phone, a twenty bill stuffed in his pocket. jisung heads out, likes the feeling of cold, fresh air hitting his nostrils. it’s a nice change from the stuffiness of his room. he walks ahead, looks at the empty streets and likes the illusion that the open space is his own. 

 

he takes the first turn right when he spots a figure sitting on one of the benches. upon taking a closer look, he realises in amazement that it’s minho.

 

minho seems like a figment of his imagination, leaning against the backside like he did a few weeks past in his car. he’s frozen in spot, head raised to the sky. when he notices jisung, he tilts his head in bewilderment, a small smile playing on his lips. 

 

“what are you doing here?” jisung asks, tentative about breaking the silence of the night.

 

“live here,” he points the block of flats behind jisung, “didn’t feel like staying inside. you?”

 

“didn’t feel like it either.”

 

“don’t you have exams tomorrow?”

 

“yeah.”

 

minho snorts, “shouldn’t you get some rest then?”

 

“rest is subjective. can i sit next to you?” minho shrugs, shuffling to the side to make room for jisung. he mimics the older’s earlier position and looks up at the stars. they’re almost faded out.

 

“don’t let me stop you, weren’t you going somewhere?” jisung shakes his head.

 

“no, no. i wasn’t. not really headed somewhere in particular.”

 

they sit in silence, jisung dropping his head to take a good look at minho, still unsure whether or not his presence was his mind playing tricks on him. he likes the way minho’s hair moves ever so slightly up when caught in the night breeze. 

 

“you wanna go somewhere with me?” minho turns to face him, an unreadable expression on his face. 

 

“with you?”

 

“yeah.”

 

jisung smiles, dropping his eyes to his hands, fingers drumming against his lap, “where do we go?”

 

“i don’t know the city too well,” minho says, “you lead the way.”

 

jisung jumps up, extending his hand towards minho. he feels something rush down his spine when the older doesn’t let go once he pulls himself up. 

 

“how do you feel about trainspotting?” he asks, randomly.

 

minho’s eyes widen, “heroin?”

 

“no,” he laughs at the stupefied expression, “no, like actually just looking at trains.”

 

minho holds his breath as he feigns deep thought, “okay. okay, i guess we can do that. sounds edgy enough. how do we do that?”

 

jisung intertwines their fingers together, just like he wanted to do the first time they met, and tells him to just follow. they walk a little faster, despite there not being any hurry. they reach the bus stop.

 

“i could just drive us,” minho reminds jisung, who announces the next bus is due to come in fifteen minutes. 

 

“where’s the fun in that?” jisung questions. minho scoffs as the younger drags him to the 24-hour convenience store. they grab a packet of crisps without much discussion, minho letting out a soft laugh at the dismay on jisung’s face when he pulls his hand away from the younger's grasp to grab it. 

 

“you wanna get something to drink?” jisung asks, gesturing at the beer aisle. minho whistles. 

 

“oh, we’re getting big boy drinks!”

 

jisung slaps his arm, but laughs along, “shut up, you’re only a year older.”

 

“do you think it’s a good idea to get drunk on the night before your finals,” minho reasons, but grabs them a can of cider each, anyways. 

 

“it’s six percent, how drunk can you get?”

 

“ah, we’ve got ourselves a connoisseur,” minho feigns admiration, “my bad.”

 

“shut up.”

 

at the cash register, minho throws in an extra chocolate bar for both of them. jisung tries not to laugh at the cashier’s tired grimace. he offers to pay minho back, but the latter ignores his attempts to stuff money into his hands. 

 

they’re almost late for the bus, but they sprint to catch it in the last second, tumbling through the back door. laughter spills from both of their lips, jisung bent in half, as minho falls onto the seat. when the chuckling dies down, jisung lifts his head up, his eyes meeting minho’s. the way the older looks at him, both fond and curious, is exhilarating.

 

minho ushers him to sit beside him, throwing his arm over jisung’s shoulder when he does. he tries to grab the cider can from the shopping back, but jisung swats his hand away.

 

“we can’t drink in the bus,” he whispers theatrically, although they’re alone.

 

“the driver doesn’t care.”

 

“there are cameras,” minho laughs at his panicked expression.

 

“you said it yourself, it’s just cider.”

 

“we can’t drink, they’ll arrest us,” jisung must look pitiful, because minho drops the teasing and rests his forehead on jisung’s shoulder laughing quietly. 

 

“you’re something else,” minho tells him. he takes out the crisps instead, and shares with jisung.

 

“you think clowning me is a personality trait,” jisung whines, but in all honesty doesn’t mind it much. he likes the way minho is, teasing, playful, but somewhat affectionate. he has a way with words, ease in delivering a lot with just a few of them.

 

“maybe,” minho says, “but you’re stuck with me for the night.” 

 

jisung turns to him and smiles widely, wider than he had in years, “yeah. yeah, i guess i am.”

 

they spend their ride getting to know each other. minho explains that he knows felix through the latter’s cousin, woojin. he took a liking to the younger boy, so he took up the offer of meeting his friends.

 

“he’s a cute one,” minho tells him, “really sweet.”

 

“i can be sweet, too,” jisung huffs, making the older smile and shake his head.

 

“sure,” he snorts.

 

“i can.”

 

“absolutely,” jisung pouts and minho presses a quick kiss against his temple to assuage him. jisung opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. “you’re a big baby, huh?”

 

“the biggest,” he confirms. 

 

when he talks about himself, from his childhood memories to his current interests, minho listens patiently. he laughs at anecdotes of five year old jisung’s antics, mocks his embarrassing middle school adventures. 

 

he likes it when minho opens up about himself, how his life looked like before he moved to warsaw. although he insists it’s boring, jisung doesn’t see it that way. he likes finding out more and more about minho, all the things that make him the way he is. 

 

“do you like it better here or at home?”

 

“neither feels much like home,” minho confesses, “but it’s nicer here, definitely.”

 

jisung nods, “i get it. it’s why i like trainspotting. it feels like home.”

 

“it sounds terrible out of context.”

 

“shut up.”

 

“i don’t think you’d like that much,” minho nudges jisung’s ankle with his foot, to which he reciprocates, bumping his shoe against minho’s heel. the older giggles, kicking back (albeit gently). they must look like morons, but jisung doesn’t find it in him to care in the slightest, enjoying himself too much.

 

“we’re irritating,” jisung states, as they get off at their stop, him hanging on minho’s arm. they’re in the city now, with more people around, but minho doesn’t push him away.

 

“you think?” he raises his eyebrows and reaches out to ruffle jisung’s hair. “i like it, though.” jisung grins back at him, pulling him to cross the street. 

 

they reach a rather steep staircase (or ruins of one, rather), which jisung explains is the only way down to the train tracks from the street. minho looks skeptical to say the least, but jisung takes his hand, coaxing him to come down.

 

“i’ve done this a couple of times, you just gotta be careful and you’ll be okay,” he promises, rubbing his thumb against minho’s palm. “crouch down to keep balance.”

 

minho does as he’s told, following jisung, hands clasped tightly. jisung is just enjoying himself, chuckling when the older lets out a yelp when he stumbles on a rock. 

 

“you don’t get to mock me,” minho sniffs.

 

“oh, but i do.”

 

“no, you don’t. i’ll be sad.”

 

“who’s the big baby again?”

 

“still you,” minho heaves a sigh of relief as they reach the ground, “damn, bitch, you do that often?”

 

“fairly,” jisung smiles. feeling particularly brave, he hugs minho for a brief second, “you did well.”

 

minho scowls at him, “stop bullying your elders.”

 

“you’re only one year older, hag,” minho punches his shoulder.

 

“for your information, i’ve been your age, you’ll never be mine.”

 

“no one wants to be your age, hag,” jisung teases, bumping their shoulders as they walk ahead along the railways. when they reach a bridge, they crouch against the cold bricks. minho takes his can of cider and takes a sip. jisung follows suit, having missed the taste. 

 

“we had legia graffiti, too,” minho points at the tagged wall, covered with the local football team logos. “it was weird, why would you support a team if we’re not from the city.”

 

“they’re the national champions,” jisung says, defensively. “i like barca, even though i’m not from spain.”

 

“first of all, the fact that you’re a football fan is a bit off-putting, but i’ll let it pass. second, it’s different. it’s as if you were from madrid and liked barcelona.”

 

“i would,” jisung counters, “also, you don’t like football.”

 

“it’s boring, just a bunch of dudes running for ninety minutes, what’s the big deal. plus, football fans annoy me.”

 

“yeah, i’m terrified of them,” jisung shudders. 

 

“we should come here again, cover it up with something better,” he can’t help but smile at a mention of another meeting, loves the thought of seeing minho again. he agrees, promising to get the paint.

 

“let’s do it after your exams, though,” minho suggests, “i’ll feel bad if you stay up because of me.”

 

“i’d stay up anyways,” jisung tells him. 

 

“where are the trains?” he asks. 

 

“you gotta wait.”

 

“i’m all excited. wanna see a train,” minho chucks the empty can aside. 

 

“you’ve never seen a train?”

 

“jisung, i’m not from siberia, of course i’ve seen a train. but i’ve never been this close, like, outside of an actual station.” 

 

jisung finishes his drink and prompts himself off the ground, helping minho up as well. he walks up to the tracks, ignoring minho asking what he was doing. he climbs up the rocks that surround the railways, balancing himself on the edge. he turns around and calls out for the older to join. 

 

“uh, i think i’m good,” minho doesn’t budge. 

 

“c’mon, it’s better up close, i promise,” jisung persuades, “you’re safe with me.” 

 

minho scoffs, but steps closer, begrudgingly, “if a train runs us over, it’s on you.”

 

jisung pulls him up, “fine by me.” he walks ahead, minho following behind him, not letting go of his hand. gradually, his steps get more confident and he moves closer to jisung. 

 

jisung explains that if they go ahead and turn right at one point, they’ll get home. minho asks him where they’d end up if they turned left. jisung answers that the airport. 

 

“can we go to the airport before we get back?” minho asks. “like, plane spotting.”

 

“sure, we’ve got all night,” jisung squeezes his hand, finding the excitement endearing.

 

“i’ve never seen one take off,” minho tells him, “or land, for the matter.”

 

“damn, siberia must be tough,” jisung jokes, but before minho can tell him to stuff his face with a sock, he shushes him, “can you hear it?”

 

“hear what?”

 

“listen,” there’s a low humming coming from the tracks in the opposite direction. he turns around and sees lights in the distance, “it’s coming.”

 

minho paces from side to side, “i can’t see clearly.” 

 

“it’s getting closer,” the rumbling grows louder within seconds, just like minho’s smile grows wider.

 

“i can hear it,” minho whispers. they stand in place, watching the train come closer, become clearer.

 

its a way-train, jisung guesses from the speed and streamline shape. it rushes past them, blowing wind in their hair, wheels screeching against the tracks. minho latches onto jisung’s arm when is passes.

 

“you liked it?” jisung asks. minho nods enthusiastically.

 

“i don’t know why i’m so excited, it’s just a train. but it’s—i don’t know how to call it.”

 

“exhilarating?”

 

“yeah. yeah, exhilarating,” jisung wraps his arms around minho’s waist and pulls him closer. he takes in the sight of minho’s surprised face, illuminated by the city lights, before pressing their lips together. it tastes a bit like cider, more so like ardor. the warmth of minho’s palms against the back of his neck, bringing him closer, makes his brain melt.

 

they pull away, minho breathless, jisung half in love. minho bites his lip, suppressing a smug grin. he looks stunning, like nothing he’s ever seen before. he doesn’t know what the time is, all sense of it long gone, but he doesn’t care.

 

“i can’t read you,” he tells minho.

 

“you like it.”

 

“yeah. but i like you more,” minho smiles sweetly. just as they are about to kiss again, the tracks start rumbling again, this time in their lane. minho visibly panics, but jisung drags them to the side. 

 

“coward,” he says, no bite to it, “you’re safe with me, i told you.”

 

“you seem awfully sure about it.”

 

“that’s because i am. you trust me?” minho turns away, but looks back as another train passes them by. he nods, grabbing the string of jisung’s hoodie and tugging him into another kiss. 

 

“just don’t let me go,” he says, as if jisung is even capable of doing so.

 

“you know i won’t,” he kisses minho’s forehead. 

 

“i do,” he grins, “i just like hearing that.”

 

jisung rolls his eyes, but he’s visibly enamoured. there’s something terribly enticing about the way minho looks at him, the way neither of them can get enough of each other. 

 

“you trust me? like _trust me_ trust me?”

 

“unfortunately.”

 

jisung detangles himself from minho and gets back on the tracks, plopping down gracelessly, then lying down completely, “join me.”

 

“you’re irritating,” minho grumbles, but lies next to jisung, pressed to his side, head rested on the younger’s chest. “is it hard to understand that not everyone has a death wish?”

 

“doesn’t it make you feel alive, though?”

 

“just a little,” minho giggles, hoisting himself closer to pull jisung into a kiss. “could be you.”

 

“god,” jisung laughs, the entire situation incomprehensible, incredulous, inconceivable. it feels more like a dream, his mind yenning for minho so strongly that it produced an illusion of him. but his hands are so warm and his touch so gentle. minho’s so real, so palpable, that jisung believes that it’s not just a figment of his imagination. 

 

“get up,” minho tells him.

 

“no.”

 

“we’re gonna get run over.”

 

“peak modern romance,” he gets up, though, the metal bars hurting his spine. they stay on the railways, walking ahead hand in hand, switching between tracks ever so often. sometimes a train passes by and minho made it a habit to kiss jisung when it does, much to the latter’s amusement. 

 

he asks minho what his favourite period in history is. minho tells him that he doesn’t have one particular he enjoys, but hates the middle ages with a burning passion. 

 

“mine is the stone age,” jisung reveals.

 

“we know shit about the stone age,” minho tells him, “at least relatively.”

 

“exactly.”

 

as they near the junction between the east-west and north-south railways, jisung points at a shed. there’s light coming from the inside and its tagged from head to bottom. 

 

“it’s security.”

 

“probably asleep.” 

 

“still, we have to sneak past.”

 

“are we doing something illegal?”

 

“i’m not sure, but i wouldn’t risk it,” jisung tells him to move to the side of the tracks, as far from the security’s sight as possible. “be quiet and quick, just don’t run, it’s too noisy. when we’re past him, turn left, yeah? then we run.”

 

“got it. left’s the airport?”

 

“yeah. there are more freight trains around here. they’re slower, so you don’t have to worry that much,” minho clearly wants to retort, but jisung gives him a push, urging him to go. 

 

he does a good job, is silent, blends in with the dark. jisung follows behind him, keeping his eyes on the potential threat. they make it past without much of a struggle, climb under a bar that separates the two tracks.

 

“go,” jisung grabs minho’s hand and pulls him as they run ahead. they slow down when the security is far behind them, completely out of sight. minho laughs through pants of exhaustion.

 

“and i’m the coward.”

 

“i don’t like getting in trouble.”

 

“ironic,” minho snorts, “you sneaked out on the day of your finals to almost get run over by a train while making out with a guy you barely know.”

 

minho’s right, it’s a crazy situation, surreal and unbelievable. it’s so unfathomable jisung starts questioning whether or not it could really be a dream. 

 

“i get away with a lot of things,” jisung reveals, “i don’t like not getting away with things.”

 

“and i don’t feel like dying just yet,” minho says, “that’s a bit more rational.”

 

jisung holds him close, laughing lightly, “i guess it is.” minho is beautiful, to the point where it’s a cliché. he makes jisung want to wax poetic about the stars in his eyes or the way his hair frame his face like he’s been sculpted. 

 

they pass by a docked empty freight train. the carriages are removed, so minho climbs up the foundation. he’s bent to the side, holding jisung’s raised hand, balancing on the side of the cart. jisung makes sure he’s careful, because it’s easy to trip over the large screws or fall into an unexpected hole in the construction.

 

“you’ve done this before?” minho asks.

 

“yeah, but never with someone.”

 

“is it better alone?”

 

“no,” jisung shakes his head, “it’s mind-blowing with you.”

 

“if i jump off, will you catch me?” minho asks.

 

“we can try,” jisung asks, “that death wish of yours—”

 

“shut up,” minho places his arms firmly on jisung’s shoulders, while the younger holds up his hands against the back of his legs. he jumps, as gently as possible, letting out a victorious whoop when jisung does indeed catch him. he does tumble backwards a little, but keeps his balance and spins them around. 

 

“want me to put you down?” jisung asks, but minho clings on tighter, his arms hooked around jisung’s neck, legs wrapped around his waist.

 

“not really,” he grins, “carry me.”

 

“pushy,” jisung comments, endeared to the core.

 

back on the ground, when jisung gets tired, minho tells him of his cats that he’s been raising back home. jisung can tell he misses them, speaks of them as if they were his children. jisung doesn’t have any pets, but loves animals, which satisfies minho. 

 

“will you move out after you graduate?”

 

jisung shrugs, “i don’t know. i don’t know if the guys will be up to rent something out and if my parents will, like, be in for it.”

 

“i guess it’s different if you’ve always been here.”

 

“yeah. how was moving?”

 

“kind of terrifying. very tiring, i had to pack up and everything, drive here, organise things.”

 

“do you miss anything? other than the cats?”

 

minho hums, “not really. i told you, it wasn’t really much of a home. don’t miss my parents, had like, three friends i didn’t like that much. i was just getting by.”

 

“i love the guys,” jisung tells him, “but i’ve never taken them here. somehow it doesn’t fit.”

 

“i fit?”

 

“mhm,” his mind is hazy, “i always wanted to hop a freight train. you’re kind of like a freight train.”

 

“heavy?”

 

“fuck off.”

 

minho bumps into him, grinning, “you like me, huh?”

 

“and what about it?”

 

“you’re a loser.”

 

“you’ve got the emotional intelligence of a seven-year-old.”

 

“one of my many charms,” jisung can’t argue with the logic, “i can’t wait to see a plane.”

 

“the seven-year-old jumps out again,” minho throws weak punches, hitting his arm. jisung catches his hands and they wrestle around, before falling into each other’s arms out of breath. the tracks narrow done as they head in the direction of the airport. the trees that surrounded them clear out, the railways following the main road. 

 

“i’ve never been here, actually,” jisung tells him. “we’re gonna have to find a good look out spot.”

 

minho points at the alley on the other side of the road, “if we get across the footbridge, we can try there.” 

 

they get off the train tracks and finally set foot on the pavement. as they walk upstairs, jisung spots the lights of a plane taking off a bit ahead of them. he nudges minho whose mouth opens in awe. 

 

“it’s so big!” he says. “you’ve flown one?”

 

“couple times.”

 

“how does it feel?”

 

jisung wonders, “you’re like tired mostly, after all the ordeal at the airport. it’s really annoying with all the people crowding to get to their seat. then you sit for like thirty minutes more waiting for everything to get ready.”

 

“get to the takeoff, already,” minho rushes down the stairs, dragging jisung behind him. 

 

“it’s fun. it’s, like, you’re sitting in place, but suddenly the plane goes really quick and then at some point you’re off the ground and you see everything getting smaller. your stomach feels a little weird, like it’s suspended.”

 

the deadbeat track follows a wire fence and jisung takes in every sound, the noise of the traffic, the crunching of the gravel under their feet, the sound of airplanes taking off and landing. the sky is no longer pitch black, starts lightening up. his legs begin to hurt after walking for what seems like hours, but he doesn’t mind it much, quickens his pace to keep up with minho.

 

finally, they can make out the outline of the terminal and jisung realises that the runway extends just a few meters behind the fence. minho clings onto the wires, pressing his face as close as possible. jisung wraps his arms around his waist and rests his chin on the older’s shoulder. 

 

they watch as a plane prepares for takeoff, lights blinking in the distance as it speeds down the runway until it lifts off. the noise is ear piercing as it flies above their heads, gaining altitude. minho’s eyes are wide open in excitement.

 

“you liked it?” jisung asks, lips brushing against the shell of minho’s ear. the older turns in his arms to kiss his cheek.

 

“yeah,” he beams, “thank you for bringing me here.”

 

they decide to stay for some time, sit down on the patch of grass nearby. minho is leaning against a tree trunk, jisung between his legs, back pressed to his chest. minho plays with his fingers as they wait for the sun to rise. 

 

“i liked you, when we first met,” jisung confesses. 

 

“because you couldn’t read me?”

 

“because i wanted to.”

 

“do you still like me?” minho’s voice is oddly quiet. 

 

“i like you much more now,” jisung smiles as minho squeezes his hand, “you’re better than i could have expected.”

 

“i liked you, too,” minho tells him.

 

“what about me?”

 

“wouldn’t you like to know?” jisung turns to him with a pout and minho’s resolve crumbles. “you’re smart. like, clever.”

 

jisung hasn’t heard that often, before, “you think?”

 

“yeah. you’re quick. you’re a step ahead of everyone. i guess it’s interesting. it’s nice to be with someone who you have to make an effort to keep up with,” minho says, tracing shapes into the backside of jisung’s hand.

 

“i’m glad you’re here,” jisung whispers, “it’s always so sad when i go alone. i mean, i like it, it clears my head. makes me feel, well, something. but now i’m not sad.”

 

“we’ll do it again,” minho proposes, “after you’re done with exams or whatever. if you wanna.”

 

“yeah.”

 

“it’s been, like, nearly a year since i got here, right?” minho muses. “wait, no, less than a year. whatever. but, like, i’ve met different people. i’ve seen different places around and shit. and i liked it, it was a good experience.”

 

“but?”

 

“but today is the closest i’ve ever got to a home.”

 

something tightens in jisung’s chest, “i have a theory.”

 

“yeah?”

 

“people think that home is, like, a place. something that’s fixed, stable. but maybe this is home. just walking ahead.”

 

“you’re plagiarising kerouac and we’re both aware.”

 

jisung giggles, tiredly, closing his eyes. the comfort of minho’s presence is relaxing, “yeah, yeah i am. i love being fake deep.”

 

“and i like clowning you.”

 

“i’ve noticed.”

 

“let’s get going,” minho tells him, as they see the flicker of the sun raise in the horizon, “we need you to fail polish as little as possible.”

 

they end up taking the bus, too tired to walk. minho lets him rest his head on his shoulder and doze off for a while. he can feel minho patting his head gently. they trudge back home, the older offering to accompany him all the way back. 

 

“call me,” minho says as they reach the front gate of the building, “when you’re, like, done with your stuff.”

 

it almost hurts to let go off his hand, “i will. see you, minho.”

 

“see you, jisung.”

 

and just like that, minho is gone. somehow, jisung sneaks back in unnoticed. he flops on his bed, not bothering to change his clothes, too exhausted to care. the afterglow of the night lulls him to sleep. 

 

he still doesn’t quite understand minho. he’s weird, nonchalant with his words but his actions reveal how much he cares. even the memory of him makes jisung euphoric, alive. he can’t wait to see him again, because he can’t imagine anything better than the adrenaline coursing through him when minho is by his side. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/midzyonce)   
>  [buy me a ko-fi](http://ko-fi.com/joonswig)


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